Cruel hand of grim pale existence
Embrace me to your midnight slumber
Mistress of cold, fangs of fire
Penetrate with blackened lust

I can feel my blood running cold
For pleasures of the warm streams of life
To satisfy this burning evil thirst
Soul of black, cult of dead, soul with sicken crave

Son of darkness, hounds of hell
Thirst for blood, under a demonic spell

Hear the wings of sacred bat
Soaring in it's soundless flight
The power of the moon in it's blackening trance
Feels like a Transylvanian night

I can hear the wind's cries for blood
Of wicked pleasure far beyond mere mortal
To satisfy this burning evil thirst
Soul of black, cult of dead, soul with sicken crave

Son of darkness, hounds of hell
Thirst for blood, under a demonic spell
Soul of black, cult of dead
Soul is cursed with sicken crave
Feel the burn, for pulsing pain
Demonical thirst for midnight drains

Soul of black, cult of dead
Soul is cursed with sicken crave

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